He was Invisible
by Saki-ika
Summary: Pain in exchange for human affection. That was what the boy lived by. And sometimes, that was alright
1. When He was Younger

**Kuroko no Basket does not belong to me.**

**slightly masochistic Kuroko in this story. Please read at your own risk.**

* * *

He was invisible.

No one noticed him.

It hurt him as a child. It hurt him very much. But he was never one to talk, and never one to cause trouble for his parents. He kept to himself the majority of the times, and would always be alone in the kindergartens. A few children would attempt to bully him, calling him a ghost, but soon they would lose sight of him and forget him. It caused him to want to be bullied. He felt that this was the only way to get human affection. His parents would be horrified to find him beaming with joy when he purposely falls down a flight stairs. He was being showered with affection. The sight of his own blood made his heart race.

_Perhaps pain was the way to obtain love._

As he grew older, he learned that hurting himself purposely was not good. It troubled his parents, and that was something he could forgive himself for. He had to figure out a way to hurt himself without it looking intentional. He managed to go for a few weeks not hurting himself while trying to figure out how to be injured "accidentally," until he overheard a few girls talk about something that caught his ear.

"Maya, why are you co clumsy?! You're going to hurt yourself one day!"

"I'm sorry, Michiru, I'm just not able enough!"

He was in 2nd grade when he looked up the word clumsy in a dictionary.

_Awkward __in __movement__ or __action;__without __skill __or __grace__._

It was perfect.

But an act is an act, and a parent knows almost too well.

He was in 4th grade when he started his first therapy session.

He felt the human affection.

But, he absolutely hated it.

* * *

When 4th grade was about to end, he and his family were watching TV while eating dinner. The father was flipping channels every 5 minutes, trying to find a channel that perhaps the entire family could enjoy. When he got to a basketball game, the announcer's voice was blared out, and the boy flinched slightly at the sudden yelling.

"_-CORED! HE SCORED WITH AN AMAZING DUNK. CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?! HE RIPPED THROUGH THE DEFENSE AS IT WERE NOTHING AND SCORED BEAUTIFULLY!"_

The boy stared at the screen, trying to comprehend what in the world was happening. The father noticed the boy's interest in the game. He let go of the remote control.

"Tetsuya, are you interested in the game?" he asks gently. The boy simply nods as he continues studying the movements of the players. "Tetsuya, the game is called 'Basketball'. I played a few times in the past, though I've become a bit rusty now, perhaps I could teach you a few things?"

The mother interjects, "No, Te-chan is so fragile; he'll end up hurting himself even more than he already has." She looks at the boy's arms, which are covered with bandages and a few minor scars that are hard to notice. He had jumped off his bike the other day while speeding down a hill. Everyone at the school said that it was an accident and that he had just lost balance and fell, but a mother knows her child best. He had jumped.

"No."

The quiet answer was barely heard, but the parents have gotten used to it. The boy was currently looking down at his hands, studying the scabs from the recent accident.

"I want to play."

That night, the mother had an intense conversation with her husband about what they needed to do, and the father managed to convince her that he'd keep an extra keen eye on the boy so he wouldn't hurt himself.

That was June.

* * *

When he came home from school, he found the house chilled empty. It wasn't rare, nor was it common, so he went to the living room to find a plate with a note next to it.

_Te-chan, sorry, but Mama has to go buy some groceries for tonight, but Papa should be coming home early today! In the meantime, eat these crackers for me, please? And stay out of trouble!_

He settled on the couch and began nibbling on the crackers. They were slightly bland, but he just liked sweet things in general. They'd be considered sweet to normal people. He finished to the crackers and stood up to take the plate to be kitchen. When he set the plate down on the counter, he heard the front door open and a familiar male voice call out his name.

"Tetsuya, I'm home!" The boy stepped towards the front door where he saw the father with a box under his arm. "Happy Birthday, Tetsuya! Ooh, boy it's cold out there!" The boy was handed the large (to the boy) box and he went to set in the living room table. When he returned to the kitchen, he found the father making himself a cup of tea. "Tetsuya, you want some tea as well? Or some hot chocolate?"

The boy stared at the father as if having an internal debate on what he wanted.

"Chocolate," was his quiet answer.

The father was a skilled man in the kitchen. He knew the likes and dislikes of both his wife and child. He grabbed a dark chocolate bar and sugar from the pantry and milk from the fridge. His eyes were professional when measuring and made a perfect combination of chocolate and hot milk. While he was stirring the mixture, an idea came up. He opened the freezer and grabbed the Tupper with his homemade vanilla ice cream and placed a small scoop on top of the hot drink. He handed the boy the mug and a small spoon. "Eat up, get big!" he said with a grin.

The boy's eyes shined like blue diamonds at the sight of the drink. It did not even come to him that he could not burn his tongue on the drink because of the ice cream. The only thing on his mind was the hot chocolate float. He said a quick, quiet thank you, and rushed back to the living room.

The front door opened once more to let the mother in. She was juggling multiple bags and was desperately trying to remove her shoes that were unfortunately covered in snow and water. The father went to help her grab the bags of groceries and placed them on the dining room table. "Te-chan, did you wait for too long?" she called toward the living room, where the mop of light blue hair looked toward her with his mouth covered in ice cream and chocolate. He shook his head. The mother couldn't help but laugh at the sight. She headed towards the kitchen and grabbed a clean towel, and wet it damp, before she went to wipe the boy's face clean. "Te-chan why do you have to be so adorable?"

* * *

The present turned out to be a basketball, and the father promised that once it got warmer, they'd start practicing together. The boy, Kuroko Tetsuya, could not remember the last time he felt so happy. The last time he had hurt himself was 8 months ago.

But life is filled with empty promises, and the world is brimmed with pain and suffering. That night, Kuroko Tetsuya failed to hear his parents lock his bedroom door. He failed to hear the cries of pain resounding through the large house, where from his room, sounded like the whisper of the wind. He failed to notice the sudden quietness of the house. He failed to notice that the house suddenly seemed awfully large.

On January 31st, Kuroko Tetsuya had become an orphan, and his life of human affection without pain had ended.

* * *

**I just found all these typos and I fixed them! So sorry! **


	2. He was Innocent

He was innocent.

So pure hearted.

And yet so dark.

So lost.

He was walking. Slowly. The wooden floors creaking beneath him. His eyes still barely open, not focusing.

Where is he? Why is he here? Was he not asleep a few moments ago?

He came to a stop in front of the stairs. Something was edging him on But another was saying stop. He placed a small foot at the first step, and then proceeded to place another foot. He paused. He smelt something very strange. Something familiar. Something that should not be so strong.

Blood.

His heart was racing. What happened? Why was the floor wet? He did not dare look down. He continued down the stairs, hands gripping the railing very tightly.

He could see rays of light peeping through the curtains. Something was wrong. Since when were the pure white curtains splattered with red? Was that the design? No. It was never there. It should not be there. Dripping. Dripping. They were wet. No, not wet. Damp. Crusting at the edges. It was not a rose red. No. it was darker. So dark. So evil. He did not understand. Whose was this? Was it not only him with crimson liquid running through his body? No. There were others. He had not seen many, so he could not quite say.

The morning sun was burning him. It was not warm. It was not welcoming. It screamed, "Go back! Return! You do not belong here! Retreat and return to your slumber!" Shall he listen? Is he obedient? What has happened? He continued walking, walking, steps ever so soft. Dripping. Dripping. So softly, softly. His foot hits something soft. Downwards is a sin. Do not look down. No. No. No. No. Not down. Dripping. Dripping. There is ringing. From where? Where? Somewhere far. He cannot reach. Do not look down. No. Downwards is a sin. Dripping. Dripping, softly, softly.

He looked down. She stared back. No. Not staring. Just looking. So dead. Too dead. Not focusing. Just looking. The puddles ripple. There is a little crusting. It ripples. Dripping. Softly. Darkness is coming. Run. Run. Far. Run far. No. He is lost. Lost. It is dark. There is ringing. He is still staring. She is still looking. He falls. He hits another. He turns his head. He is looking. He is staring. He is still lost. Little one. Still dripping. Dripping. Ringing. Ripples. Dripping. Ringing. Ringing. Dripping. Softly. So softly. So loudly. So loud. Loud. Loud. LOUD. LOUD .LOUD. OUD. LOUD. OUD. LOUD. LOUD. LOU. LO. LOUD.

Everything came to a stop. Everything became dark. All was silent. The stare was so loud. The looking. It was so loud.

* * *

When he opened his eyes, the sun was shining brightly. It was still stabbing him. Penetrating his pale skin. Hurts. Hurts. So painful. Soft ringing. There was no more dripping. His clothes were crusty. He looked down, and saw his shirt caked with blood. He looked down again. And saw her still looking. He looked to his side, and saw him still looking. Still looking. So loudly. So loud. So silent. Soft ringing.

He got up. There was a phone in the kitchen.

Yes. He needed to go there. Get help. No. Don't let anyone in. Yes. Get help.

He got on the stool.

No, do not call them. Yes, you need help. No. No. Yes. No. Yes. Yes. Help. Help. Help.

He was dialing.

No. Stay away. Go away. Go. Go. Help. Help. Help. Help

"_What is your emergency?"_

"HELP"

* * *

The bodies were taken. He cried. He didn't know what he was doing, nor did he know what the liquid pouring from his eyes were. He had never cried. He was so lost. So lost. He had no light. He was left in the dark. So many questions. He had so many. So did the men in uniform. They asked so many. He did not listen. He only let the salty water pour from his eyes.

No. No answers. None. Never. He wanted to know. So did they. Neither knew anything. They left him to ask the others. His neighbors. His family.

No. Not his family. They were only people that had similar blood as him. He did not see them as family. No. He did not want them near him. They did not understand. Pain. There was pain in his arm. No. Not downwards. It is a sin. Not downwards. Do not look.

There were nail marks. He had gripped his arm too strong. There was blood. He stared. Not looked. Stared. So red. Like the curtain. The floor. His parents.

Where did they go? He had to be by their side. Why did the men put them in bags? What was happening? He so lost. He was so innocent. He was invisible. So forgotten. Where did it start? Why did this happen? What was the cause? He is lost. He is in the darkness. He needed help. But he was invisible. No one remembered. He was only a "thought." Did he really exist, they ask. Yes, the others say, he is in the pictures. Where was he? Who were these people? He is scared. So scared. There is more ringing. Why is there ringing? Why will it not stop?

So loud.

He covered his ears.

Still ringing. Ringing. So loud. Where was this ringing?

He cried again.

He was forgotten. So invisible. He was invisible. He needed more pain. Do not forget him. He is in danger. He is in danger of himself. Be careful. Still ringing. The ringing. It was changing. Not ringing. Voices. There were voices. So many. High pitched. Low pitched. So many. The voices.

He still cried.

They tried to calm him down.

He cried, screamed, he was trying to say something.

A few made out a phrase or two.

"The voices," they heard, "hurt me."

* * *

The blood related relatives managed to contact his therapist. They explained the situation. The possibility that he is hearing voices.

She came as fast as she could. The city was a half an hours walk, a woman of good physique could easily run it in a few minutes.

He was still crying. Not screaming. Just muttering.

Voices.

She went up to him. She touched the top of his head. He flinched. She flinched as well.

"Do you hear voices?"

He nods.

"What do they say?"

He shakes his head. "I don't know." A quiet response. Barely audible. But she too had gotten used to the quiet voice.

The woman sighed. She turned to the blood relatives. "I'd like to do brain scans. It could either be temporary that will go away after a while, or it could be something much more serious."

The CAT scans were on the positive side. The problems should subside within a matter anywhere from a few days to a few months. In the meantime, they said, continue coming to therapy like usual.

* * *

The boy, Kuroko Tetsuya, he was now alone. He was now completely silent. He was now unseen.

There was still voices, They were fading, though. Fading into light ringing.

He had gotten used to them. They were now the only attention he received. After the men in uniform left, the relatives related only by blood began to discuss about money. Of course they would. One side had been a family full of successes and the other of failure. They did not get along, nor did they plan to. They had just been taking care of the boy, comforting him, not 2 minutes ago, and they acted as though they forgot about him. The only company were the voices. They were comforting.

In truth, he did understand what the voices were saying. Words only told by his now dead parents, said in voices he'd never heard. "We'll stay by you." " Leave everything to us." "Don't worry." They were his escape from reality. His comfort. His home for now.

So when the voices started to fade back into ringing, he felt a rush or loneliness. In the end, he will remain alone after all. Blend into the background. Remain a shadow. The light still hurt on his skin. The voices left him with a parting kiss, "Never worry, child, we will be back when you need us most." After the whisper of parting, the ringing stopped. He was left in complete silence once again.  
Kuroko had managed to convince the relatives that he would not give any of the money to them. They were nothing but greedy pigs after all. They did not deserve the hard earned money of his parents. And they did not deserve to remain by his side.

* * *

Kuroko Tetsuya was in 6th grade when the police gave up on finding the killer. Kuroko Tetsuya might have been young, but he was a brilliant child when it came to breaking down information. The center of the problem was money. He had figured it out in 5th grade, and he was so much closer to find the killer the next year. Someone of his own family. No, his relatives of blood relation. They did not deserve the title of "family." The last ones with the title had long died, and rest within an urn placed upon a cabinet. Human affection had died along with them. Perhaps he was destined to be alone. Perhaps.

Perhaps.

The end of 6th grade brought upon a new beginning. One that would be filled with new experiences. His therapist decided it was safe for him to stop coming, and told him to be careful when attending school. "The moment you feel something is strange, you come as soon as possible, am I clear?" was the last thing he heard from her. He did not dislike her, but he did dislike the sessions. The lady was kind and taught him many of the basics of living alone. Therapy was no longer a place for him to return to "normal." It had become the last place of human affection. When he was told he did not need to come, he accepted it. He could live alone. He did not need love. He could not be loved, nor could he love himself. Those emotion as well, were hidden well within the ashes.

Perhaps.

The new beginning was only the first page of the new chapter or his life. He will continue living life, but he will learn the lessons that come with it. He will be empathetic and he will be apathetic.

Perhaps. Only perhaps, the very soft, faint ringing was a figment of his imagination.

* * *

**Not sure is people have noticed, but the entire story revolves around the concept of human affection, and how Kuroko (in this story) feels as though he had lost all sources of it. And about the repetitive style of typing, thought it'd be cool add an effect of psychopathic tones.**

**Kuroko no Basket does not belong to me!**

**Thank you for waiting, and thank you for reading!**

**See you in the next chapter!**

**edit: omfg, these typos, maybe I need someone to beta?**


	3. He was Lost

**SO. SO. SO. SO SORRY FOR THE MASSIVE DELAY. And I've got no excuses to cover myself. -_- but here's the third chapter!**

**Kuroko no Basket does not belong to me!**

* * *

He was lost.

Amidst the crowds of adolescent children, there was one light blue hair boy, pushed against the mass flow of humans. He looked about himself, wondering how he was to get where he needed to. The boy managed to nudge his way out of the crowds and off to the side of the walkway. He looked to the left where the school stood tall and proud. He was to spend the next 3 years within the thick walls of the building, perhaps a few friends to be made in the process. His parents, he doesn't remember how they died, all he knows is a relative killed them for money. That was all he needed to know to distance himself from them. To not associate himself with the flies and maggots that scavenge for any of the money he could of possibly dropped. Of course, he never did drop any, nor was he clumsy enough to allow them to grab money but they were always on the lookout.

He shifted the bag on his shoulder, the straps digging into him. He stared blankly ahead, not paying attention to his surroundings and drifting slowly into the world of his voices. A sudden strike to his shoulder brought his rushing back to reality has his face almost closed the space between the floor. He closed his eyes and braced for the hit that never came, but instead felt a strong pull on his arm as the force yanked him back up.

"Sorry man. Didn't see you there." The boy looked up. And up. And up, and saw the face of a dark skinned boy with dark blue hair. He quickly left after apologizing to the boy, who was still processing what had happened. He turned back to the direction he had been originally heading and continued his way towards his classroom.

* * *

The teacher was a man of average height, average build, and average appearance. His skill in teaching was perhaps slightly better than average, but his observational skills were exceptional. As he called roll and asked for introductions, he briefly skimmed through the faces of the new students. Most of them looked about average, perhaps a few delicate faces, faces that were to become finely sculpted here and there. These students were all from families of high status, and that included the faculty. There was but only a few faces that pushed away people. He continued down the list of students, each saying a short introduction that either only had their name or had actually said a hobby or two. He hit a certain name that caused him to raise a brow.

"Kuroko Tetsuya!"

A few whispers broke between a number of the students. Perhaps a few of them do remember the incident from 3 years back. He looked to where the boy was supposed to be sitting, but couldn't seem to find the boy. Suddenly and a hand appeared between two students. A light blue haired boy rose from between them.

"I'm Kuroko Tetsuya. Nice to meet you."

The monotonous voice seemed to almost drown within the silent classroom. The teacher was left almost staring off into space before he snapped back and continued with roll, keeping the boy in mind.

There was no curriculum to teach that day, as it was the first, so the teacher recommended thinking about clubs they may be interested in joining. Clubs were required for first years, he explained, and second and third years are allowed to leave as soon as school ends. The rest of the class time was allowed to be used as self-study time. The teacher walked over to the boy and whispered a quick message to him before leaving the room.

* * *

"You wished to see me, teacher?"

No one had heard the door to the teacher's lounge opening, so a few of the teachers around him jumped slightly from the sudden appearance of the student. The supposed teacher, turned from his desk, and gave the boy a small smile. He motioned him to sit down on a nearby stool. "I suppose you want to know why I called you." He watched the boy nod, and he continued, "I'd like to make sure you're feeling all right. And that you'll be feeling all right from here on," he stole a glance at the boy, who had a face of no emotion. "I also would like to let you know that I come from a family of private investigators and that if you ever need help, I'll be willing."

The boy maintained his emotionless mask and nodded, "I'll keep it in mind." He stood and left the room.

The boy made his way towards the gymnasium with a slight hop to his step. Although his face did not give way to his emotions, he was indeed excited. Whether the fact that he had a higher chance of grasping the answer of his age old question or that he was going to join the club of his favorite sport was making him excited, not even he knew.

* * *

**This chapter had been done to this point for a few months but I kept thinking I could add more. Unfortunately I couldn't think of much more, so here it ends! OTL I'm not too sure if I want to keep up with this story, but I'll just see how it goes and whether or not I get the will power to work on it…..**

**And I'm sorry about the really awkward language use, I'm still trying to grasp the concept of story writing…**

**And the short chapter OTLLL;;;;**

**See you perhaps in a few weeks/months!**


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